


Chocobolica

by JerichoJaspersJeromeJr



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Exhibitionism, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Violence, Polyamory, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 05:24:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9642521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JerichoJaspersJeromeJr/pseuds/JerichoJaspersJeromeJr
Summary: The Carnival is like a dream but there's still a few things missing before it's all perfect.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [kinkmeme](http://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/841.html?thread=678217).

Altissia is still in the full swing of Carnival Season, gold and white pennants waving jauntily against brilliant blue skies, moogles and chocobos decorating every street. Even tucked away at little fishing-spot beside the Furgola Canal, Noctis can still hear the laughter of the crowds above drifting down to him. It’s a sound that goes well with his victory when the fish he’s been battling for 20 minutes finally gives up the fight.

"Who's puny now?” Noctis cries out as he hauls the fish from the water. The grouper may be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and he basks in his triumph for a moment before he realises he has no audience besides Carbuncle, who’s currently curled up asleep at his feet.

“Ugh, not as fun with no one around to brag to . . . " he begins to mutter to himself, when a familiar voice interrupts him.

“Hey, mine’s still bigger.”

Noctis’ whips his head around and stares, “Gladio!?”

“Noct.” Gladio replies, grinning. He’s sitting at the edge of the dock, in a spot that had been empty a moment before, and Noctis drops his fishing rod to fling himself forward. He wraps his hands around Gladio’s biceps, feeling hard muscle and warm, inked-ridged skin.

“Fucking Six, it really is you,” Noctis says, hauling him into a hug, “How long have you been here?”

Gladio’s arms come up to wrap around Noctis’ waist, “Just got here, I think? Prompto and Ignis are probably around somewhere, too.”

Noctis leans back and looks him in the eyes. He remembers snatches, brief memories of Insomnia, its ruined streets shrouded in darkness. “Gla . . . “

“Don’t think about it.” Gladio cuts him off. His hands rub comforting circles across Noctis’ back. “It’s not something we have to worry about any more.”

Noctis squints at him, “You sure you’re Gladio?”

Gladio gives an embarrassed laugh, “Yeah, I . . . may owe you an apology on that one. Turns out your destiny _sucked_.”

Noctis says nothing, he’s remembering the crumbling throne, the glowing figures circling around him . . . 

“Hey,” Gladio says, giving him a little shake, “I said don’t think about it.” He presses a kiss to the corner of Noctis’ mouth and then stands up, pulling Noctis up with him, “We been keeping you waiting long?”

Noctis shakes his head to clear it, “I’m not sure? I don’t think so . . . “

The buzz of his phone distracts him and he unlocks it to read, “I’m glad your friends are here!” Noctis looks down to see Carbuncle frisking about his feet, tail swishing, and then the happy chocobo emoji pops up on his phone screen.

“Oh hey, who are you, little guy?” Gladio asks, kneeling down and stretching out his hand for Carbuncle to sniff. The little creature butts at his fingers until Gladio chuckles and pets his head.

“That’s new.” Noctis says, surprised, “You guys could never see him before.” 

Carbuncle gives Gladio’s fingers a final lick and then leaps onto Noctis’ leg, scampering up his back to perch on his shoulder. Noctis puts a hand against the creature to steady him and Gladio’s phone buzzes. 

“Answer it.” Noctis suggests, “it’s his way of saying hi.”

Gladio looks at his phone, then chuckles and reaches out to pet Carbuncle, “Glad to meet you too, kiddo.” Carbuncle makes a happy chirruping noise as Gladio scratches him under the chin.

Noctis’ phone buzzes again and he looks down to read, “Now they’re all here you should go have fun together! <3”

Noctis rubs the spot between Carbuncle’s ears, “You can tag along if you want.”

“Thank you! <3” his phone reads, “But I’m a busy Astral! I have to get going! But I’m glad we saw the fireworks together <3! And I’m glad they got here before I had to leave! <3 <3 <3!!!”

His phone receives a final emoji, a dancing moogle, as Carbuncle nuzzles against Nocts’ face and licks his cheek. Then he’s leaping from Noctis' shoulder and curling on himself in mid-air, vanishing into a ball of light.

“Huh,” Gladio says.

“He does that.” Noctis says.

Then look at each other and Gladio frowns. Noctis is briefly worried that they’re about to have a serious talk - and they do need to have one, he knows that, but he doesn’t want to ruin the weightless feeling of the Carnival - but then Gladio says “What the fuck are you wearing? Ignis is going to set you on fire if he sees you in that hat.”

Noctis clamps protective hands around his chocobo-moogle proper-beanie, “It’s festive!”

“It’s eye-searing.” Gladio says, “You’re like a human confusion spell.”

Noctis glowers, trying to think of something to change the subject, and then it comes to him. He smirks up at Gladio, “You know, it’s a pity you got here late. Carbuncle and I had VIP tickets to the fireworks last night.”

“That so?” Gladio says, raising an eyebrow, “‘Cause I bet the view from Listro Park’s just as good.”

“It came with a suite at the Leville. Pretty great, having a bed all to myself for once.”

Gladio grins at him, “big bed?”

“It’d fit four.”

“Bet you were lonely.”

Noctis looks up at him. There’s bits of confetti fluttering in the air, all around them, and a few bright pieces have gotten caught up in Gladio’s hair. Noctis reaches up to brush them gently out, saying, “Yeah, well, you all just got here, right? We should stay another night.”

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Gladio says, and then leans down to kiss him.

It’s only mid-morning and the back alleys of Altissia are cool and shady, but sunlight sparkles off the water and throws patterns against the walls. Gladio slings an arm over Noctis’ shoulders and tugs him close as they walk together back towards the prize stand.

“Where’d you think the others are?” Noctis asks.

“Ignis is probably in a restaurant somewhere.” Gladio says, “Prompto . . . “

They both look up at the bright yellow pennants, flapping in the breeze, and the chocobos festooning the street-lamps.

“Probably everywhere. All at once.” Noctis says.

“We’ll find him eventually,” Gladio says, sounding doubtful.

“We’re on an island, right?” Noctis says, “How far can he get?”

“Chocobos can swim,” Gladio reminds him. Noctis shoves at him and Gladio dances away, chuckling, “He’ll be fine, don’t worry. He’s all grown up now.”

They start walking again and this time it’s Noctis who puts an arm around Gladio’s waist, holding him warm and solid next to him. He’s feeling secure and content in a way that he hasn’t since he was a kid, before the Marilith, a quiet sort of happiness that he had forgotten existed.

That feeling’s only slightly dented when they get to the prize board and he sees the price hike.

“NINETY-NINE MEDALLIONS?!” Noctis chokes out, “that only cost 50 yesterday!”

Gladio stares at the number like it’s an opponent, then pulls him towards a bench by the water and sits down. He rummages in his pockets and pulls out a fist full of metal disks, “How many you got?” he asks, counting his out.

Noctis sits down beside him and pulls out his own hoard, “I spent most of them last night, I’ve only got ten left.”

Gladio grins, “Ha. I got 30.”

Noctis rolls his eyes and is about to point out he had 60 last night when something black and furred knocks into them from behind, flailing against their backs. The medallions spill out of their hands and go rolling into the water.

“What the fuck?!” Gladio says, turning around angrily.

The skinny form of Kenny Crow raises its wings appeasingly and backs off, “Sorry, Sorry!” he says, voice shrill, “Was just having fun with the kids! Weren’t we, kids?!” he screams, whirling around, wings outstretched.

A little girl bursts into tears and lets go off her balloons.

“Oh for . . . “ Noctis says, warping after the balloons. By the time they’ve been restored them to their rightful owner and Gladio has cheered her up again, Kenny Crow is gone.

Noctis sighs, looking at the prize stand, “Guess we’re going to have to start over again.”

“50 each, by tonight?” Gladio says, scratching the back of his neck idly, “That’s not a challenge.”

“Uh-huh?” Noctis says.

Gladio leers at him, “Let’s make this interesting. I hit 99 first, I get to put a cock ring on you tonight. Got it?”

Noctis sucks in a breath, blushing, but then smirks up at him, “What’s that, Big Guy? You’re so afraid you’ll lose you’re trying to bribe me?”

He warps away across the canal while Gladio’s still struggling for a retort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) . . . Can you even catch grouper at Furgola Canal? I'm not actually sure?
> 
> 2) One of the weirdest aspects of the Carnival is it's a time-limited event, so for the people who came late to the game here's Noct's infamous hat (non-mariachi version).


	2. Chapter 2

It’s past noon when Noctis finally takes a break from fishing. He’s up to 40 medallions again already and he’s getting hungry.

He ends-up wandering past the street-side restaurants of the Ministerial Quarter, watching the mascots dance and just enjoying the atmosphere. He doesn’t realise what he’s really looking for until he passes by the strange cafe set up in the courtyard of the First Secretary’s Mansion and that's when he remembers the recipe ideas he has jotted down on a napkin and shoved into his back pocket.

Carbuncle had said Ignis should be at the Carnival somewhere.

It’d be nice, Noctis thinks, to be able to share a meal with Ignis again without that pressing feeling they need to be doing something else. To just be able to take their time and enjoy the food and each other’s company.

He looks around more carefully, one more time, but no, Ignis definitely isn’t at any of the restaurants lining Via Fejeno. He checks the cafe by the Via Palsino stop as he passes through to catch a gondola but he’s not surprised that Ignis isn’t there either.

When he finally finds Ignis standing behind the counter at the Maagho it makes an odd sort of sense. Ignis looks up as Noctis walks up the steps and even though the first thing he says is, “Take that hat off or I resign,” his smile is sweet and warm.

“The hat stays,” Noctis says, smiling back helplessly, “Kids love it, think of all the good PR.” His heart is beating a little fast, even if it’s only because Ignis can see his stupid hat.

Ignis gives a long suffering sigh but abandons the argument, leaning over the counter so they can exchange a soft kiss instead.

“Wheskam having you fill in for him?” Noctis asks.

“Wheskam isn’t here,” Ignis says, an odd inflection on the word ‘here’.

“Alright,” Noctis says, nodding, because he’s trying to not look at the logic of this place too closely but Wheskam’s absence also makes an odd sort of sense. 

Instead, he focuses on the dishes Ignis is in the middle of working on. His cooking looks as amazing as ever but there’s something different about it, this time, and it takes Noctis a moment to put his finger on it. 

Noctis is used to Ignis’ food being delicious but straight-forward, with few flourishes beyond the occasional sprig of herbs - but the plates arrayed in front of Ignis right now dazzle with colour, decorated with garnishes and accented with swirls of bright sauces.

“This is pretty fancy, for you.” Noctis says.

“Yes, I suppose it is.” Ignis says, carving a tomato into a flower, “I . . . missed the visual component, more than I expected, so I’m afraid I'm being a little self-indulgent.”

“Ah,” Noctis says, weakly, and tries to find better words, but then Ignis says, “If you’re just going to hang around, go make yourself useful and take some orders.”

As if waiting for the moment, the nearby tables ring out with calls of, “Excuse me, Sir?” and, “Oh, waiter!”

Noctis sighs and picks up a menu, “You know all my previous service job experience was asking ‘do you want fries with that’, right?”

“You’ll be fine,” Ignis says, doing something complicated with a piping bag.

The Carnival atmosphere is more subdued down here in the Floating Market, decorations limited to some tastefully-arranged bunting and not a stuffed animal in sight. Still, Noctis thinks as he serves overpriced canapes to a man in a chocobo-feather headband, he’s hardly the only person at the Maagho wearing a stupid hat.

At some point during the lunch rush, Ignis switches on the radio. Noctis hears him fiddling with it in the background as he takes yet another order for Fettini di Cernia. Every news station now seems to be nothing but static or the same five adverts on repeat but eventually Ignis finds a station playing soft classical music and leaves it on there.

Finally, the orders stop flooding in, almost as abruptly as they started, and Noctis slumps against the counter, wondering if Ignis will let him get away with napping behind it.

“Good work,” Ignis says, looking up from where he’s stirring a pot, “Now, could you set that table in the corner?”

Noctis tries giving him his most pitiful look but Ignis just hits him lightly in the head with some napkins, “Go on.” Noctis briefly considers feigning unconsciousness before taking the napkins and slumping off resignedly.

He’s just finished setting out the cutlery when Ignis comes over, carrying two steaming plates.

“Who’s that order for?” Noctis asks.

“Us,” Ignis answers, putting the plates down on the table, “come on, sit down and let’s eat.”

It’s a rice dish, Noctis can tell that much, but it’s vividly, lushly black, the dark colour only accentuated by the scattering of bright green parsley and the white and purple vegetable slices fanned around the rim.

“Risotto al Nero di Seppia”, Ignis says, before he can even ask, “eat it before it gets cold.”

Despite the way it looks the food’s delicious, briny notes cutting through the creamy richness. They talk while they eat, Noctis tells Ignis about Carbuncle and Kenny Crow and the bet with Gladio, making Ignis laugh. Ignis waxes poetic about the quality of Altissian coffee and the stylishness of their fashion and Noctis lovingly describes the fish he’s caught that morning.

“By the way, you should try some of the garnish,” Ignis says.

“What is it?” Noctis asks, immediately wary.

“Just try it,” Ignis says, noncommittally. Noctis eyes him suspiciously but he spears one of the purple slices with his fork and steels himself to take a bite.

The watery, vegetal sweetness of carrot fills his mouth and he’s gagging immediately.

“Well,” Ignis says, adjusting his glasses, “I suppose that answers that question. I’d always wondered if your aversion was psychosomatic but it seems genuine enough.”

“This is treason!” Noctis complains, looking futilely for something to drink.

Ignis passes him a frosted glass, “Here, water with lemon, it should help clear the taste.”

Noctis chugs it down desperately, then sets it down with a weak groan, “Not nearly enough.”

Ignis looks at him for a second, then smiles softly and grabs a fist-full of Noctis’ t-shirt, hauling him over the table into a firm kiss. Their plates and glasses go crashing to the floor and Noctis’ mouth drops open in shock. Ignis takes advantage to boldly licks his way in.

The angle is awkward, Noctis leaning unsteadily over the table, but he’s missed the taste of Ignis’ mouth for so long and now he can’t get enough. It’s only when the music on the radio gives way to a loud advert for Cornix that he remembers they’re doing this in the middle of the Maagho.

Noctis breaks away, staring up at Ignis in surprise, “Wait, you just did that here? In the middle of the restaurant!?”

“Look around,” Ignis says, “Who’s going to notice?”

Noctis does look, at the patrons at their tables and the merchants in their market boats. The bar is filled with the happy sounds of people appreciating their food and the company and absolutely no one is staring at Noctis and the broken plates scattered around his feet.

“. . . Okay, that’s a little creepy.” Noctis says.

“A little,” Ignis agrees, “but it has its advantages.”

He leans closer, his mouth brushing against Noctis’ ear, “If they don’t even notice that hideous hat, I doubt they’ll notice my bending Your Majesty over the counter and fucking you until you scream.”

“Fuck,” Noctis hisses, suddenly, unbelievably turned-on, “Fuck yes. You want to do that? Now?”

“No of course not.” Ignis says, leaning back and frowning at him, “That’d be a food hygiene nightmare.”

Noctis gives him a blank look, erection wilting, “Seriously, Specs? Seriously!?”

Ignis sighs again, like he hadn’t been the one who'd just been graphically describing ravishing Noctis in public, “Well, maybe we could all go for a gondola ride later. I’m sure we could make it even more enjoyable than usual.” 

Noctis shivers at the mental images.

“By the way, did we get the taste out of your mouth?” Ignis asks, giving Noctis an arch look.

Noctis licks his lips and leans over the table again, “Not even close.”

“What a pity,” Ignis says, eyes heavy-lidded, and then he presses their mouths back together.

“KAW KAW KIDS!!!” comes the scream from behind them and the next thing Noctis knows they’re being pelted by stale, unpleasantly greasy fries. They break apart to see Kenny Crow, waving at them from a gondola that’s already swiftly rowing away.

“What the hells is wrong with you, asshole!?” Noctis yells. 

He’s about to warp-strike after the mascot but then Ignis grabs him by the wrist. “Don’t,” Ignis says in a warning tone, “We don’t know who’s under that costume and if you miss and land in the water you’ll be defenseless.”

Noctis dismisses his sword with a noise of irritation, “I don’t like this. We need to get moving and go find the others.”

“Agreed, he seems to be deliberately targeting you.” Ignis says, “just give me one moment and . . . “

He falls silent and Noctis turns to see him glaring down at the cash register. Ignis looks over at him, “Well, this is vexing. We’ve just been robbed by Kenny bloody Crow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) In case anyone was wondering where Luna is during all this, she's got better things to do, namely Nyx. They've found a motorbike (with a side-car for Pryna) and are currently road-tripping together across their memories of Galahd and Tenebrea.
> 
> 2) I spent way too long while writing this wondering why everyone at the Maahgo eats while standing-up. What the hell, Wheskam? You're charging 300,000 gil for toast with fish-eggs, you can afford some more stools.


	3. Chapter 3

“So, any plans for finding them?” Noctis asks.

Ignis pulls out his phone, “Well, you said that Carbuncle could text you. Have you tried texting anyone else?”

Noctis feels like slapping himself, the solution was so obvious, “Good idea. I’ll text Prompto and you text Gladio?”

Gladio texts Ignis back almost instantly. By the time he arrives on a gondola Ignis has tried texting Prompto three times and Noctis four, plus one phone-call which should have gone to voicemail but instead got them nothing but a windy noise that wasn’t quite static.

“Hey,” Gladio says, looking around as he steps out of the boat, “No Prompto yet?”

“No,” Noctis says, “He hasn’t even answered his phone.”

“He’s probably just racing chocobos. He wouldn’t be able to answer mid-race,” Ignis says calmly, “We’ll give him 15 more minutes, then if he hasn’t gotten in touch yet we’ll split-up and search for him.”

If Noctis hadn’t known him since forever he might have missed the faintest line of worry between Ignis' eyes.

“Sounds like a plan,” Gladio says, looking at Ignis too, and then he's dipping down and pressing a kiss against Ignis’ forehead. None of them were ever that demonstrative in public before, especially the older two, but there’s no consequences left to worry about now.

Gladio turns to Noctis and Noctis tilts his head up for his kiss. He scowls at Gladio when he gets his hair ruffled instead.

“. . . Your text said Kenny Crow’d been hassling you again?” Gladio asks, “‘Cause he hasn’t stopped messing with me, either.”

“Shit,” Noctis hisses out.

“Stick to the plan, there’s no need to panic yet,” Ignis says, sitting back down at the table he and Noctis had eaten their late lunch at, “Prompto’s an experienced fighter now, he’s not helpless.”

Gladio grumbles and sits down opposite him, “Yeah, you’re right.”

Noctis, after some hesitation, takes the third stool. It makes the fourth feel conspicuously empty. There’s four crystal bowls and and a layered dessert waiting ready on the table, Ignis looks at them but makes no move to serve them out.

“What is that, anyway?” Gladio asks.

“It's called tiramisu, it’s a local favourite,” Ignis says.

Gladio leans forward to study it, “It smells like coffee.”

“That would be because it’s coffee-flavoured,” Ignis says in a tone of infinite patience. Noctis bites back a laugh.

“You’re getting pretty debauched, ain’t ya, Ignis?” Gladio grins, “I mean, wow, coffee-based desserts _before_ dinner, we're getting wild here.”

“Actually, Noctis and I just finished lunch,” Ignis says, leaning back and looking at Gladio over his glasses, “It was nice. It was romantic. Noctis ate a carrot and absolutely no one complained that it wasn’t Cup Noodle.”

“Hey, I like food other than Cup Noodle!”

“I also wanted to cook something more challenging than meat-on-a-stick.”

“I thought you liked where I stuck my meat,” Gladio leered.

Ignis visibly struggles between wanting to retort and not wanting to descend to Gladio’s level. He's saved from having to chose when Noctis’ phone suddenly buzzes. Prompto’s name is flashing on screen and Noctis nearly drops his phone in his hurry to answer.

He opens the text and reads it, then sucks in a breath and tries to stop how his hands are shaking, “Guys, it’s from Prompto’s phone but it’s NOT from Prompto.”

“What do you mean?” Ignis asks. Noctis passes his phone over in response.

“Caw Caw, Kids,” Ignis reads out reluctantly, mouth twisting, “If you ever want to see your friend again you’d better find him fast. Or maybe you’re okay with him giving his life for art. Caw. Caw . . . Caw . . . etc.”

Ignis hands Noctis back his phone, almost absently, and gets up to pace the floor.

“There’s a clue in that somewhere,” Ignis mutters, “Giving his life for art? It couldn’t be that demonic painting, could it? That’s far too easy . . . “

“Specs, he attacked us with stale fries this afternoon,” Noctis says, getting up too, “I don’t think we’re dealing with a mastermind here.”

“The sun’s starting to set.” Gladio says, also standing, hands flexing at his side subconsciously as if he’s about to draw a sword.

“We’re less than ten minutes away,” Ignis says, “Sunset’s not for another hour, we can make it.”

“If I warp I can be there in under minute,” Noctis says.

Gladio clasps him on the firmly on the shoulder and says, “Go.”

Noctis is warping across the canal before Ignis can even tell him to be careful.

A second warp takes him to the up and across the bridge and then he’s running flat-out the rest of the way. He skids to a stop at the top of the stairs, staring at the stacks of armored crates now blocking the archway leading down to the storage area. “Prompto?” he calls out.

No one answers.

Noctis takes a deep breath and tries to calm down. Then he switches on his flashlight and tries to get a look through the railing lining the staircase. That’s when he sees a huddled form, slumped at the top of the stairs, that’s all too familiar.

“Prompto!” he whispers and then yells, much louder, “PROMPTO!”

It’s a long, long, horrible moment before Prompto stirs and looks up around groggily, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Oh thank fuck,” Noctis says, breathing it out like a prayer, “Prompto, over here!”

“Noct?” Prompto looks up. His eyes widen when he sees Noctis and he scrambles to his feet, “Noct!”

“Are you hurt?” Noctis asks, his eyes scanning Prompto anxiously.

“Only my pride, really,” Prompto chuckles nervously, rubbing at the back of his head. He smiles at Noctis, a little shyly, “I feel better now you’re here, though.”

Noctis stretches a hand out through the railings. Prompto reaches back and they tangle their fingers together. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Noctis promises him, “Gladio and Ignis are on their way.”

“I know,” Prompto’s smile grows a little brighter, “I know that now, you guys will always come to bail me out. I . . . “

There’s a rustling noise and Prompto looks down, talking to something in the shadows of the stairs, “No, it’s okay, he’s cool, don’t worry.”

“There’s someone else in there with you?” Noctis asked, brow furrowing, “Who else has that asshole been kidnapping?”

“What, wait, no?” Prompto lets go of his hand and ducks out of sight, remerging with his arms full of golden fluff. “Not people. Chocobo chicks.”

The chick warks at Noctis indignantly, bristling its feathers. “Oh hey if you’re just going to be rude to Noct I’m going to put you down again,” Prompto scolds it. The chick just kwehs grumpily so Prompto laughs and sets it down.

“Sorry about that, Noct.” Prompto says reaching back through the bars to twine their hands together again, “Yeah that’s . . . kind of how I got into this mess, heh. I heard it and it sounded upset and when I came down here I found some bastard had trapped it in a box . . . and then the next thing I know I’m getting hit with a stop spell by . . . er, don’t laugh at this next bit . . . “

"Let me guess, Kenny Crow?” Noctis says, huffing despite himself, “It’s not just you, he’s been fucking with all of us.”

“Oh! Oh, good! . . . I mean, no, wait, that’s bad,” Prompto says, wincing, “Just . . . not as embarrassing as I was afraid of?”

Noctis gives his fingers a squeeze, “Hey, you were protecting something innocent and helpless, what’s there to be embarrassed about?”

Prompto bites his lip, “Thanks, Noct.”

Noctis rubs his thumb over Prompto's knuckles, "Always."

"So, um, think Gladio's going to be able to move those crates?" Prompto asks. Noctis looks over at them. They look very solid and very, very heavy. 

“Maybe not, but I think I can,” Noctis says, letting go of his hand, “I’ve got an idea.”

He mentally rummages through the Armiger then reaches out to Prompto again, “Here, put this on.”

Prompto takes the little metal trinket and stares at it, “Um, Noct . . . isn’t this a Fire Crest?”

“Yeah,” Noctis says, searching through the Armiger again, “also you might want to stand back, just in case.”

Even through the railings and the gloom Noctis can see Prompto’s eyes go wide, then there’s more tiny, annoyed warking as he ushers the chick down the stairs. Noctis is about to step back himself but then Prompto appears again and says, a little breathlessly, “Also, in case this doesn’t work, I need you to know that I love you all and that your hat is the best thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

And then Prompto’s ducking back out of sight again. Noctis listens until he's sure he can no longer hear his footsteps ringing against the stone stairs. 

Noctis moves back, gauging the weight and heft of the Quadcast Firaga in his hand. “Well,” he says to himself, “The sun’s not setting any slower.”

Then he lobs it.

A minute later, surveying the wreckage, he thinks he may have overdone it. Just a little. The flames burned in colours not seen in nature and while there’s no crates left there’s also not much of a railing, just molten puddles of metal hissing on the floor. The bricks are still glowing red with heat.

“ . . . If Ifrit had seen that he be feeling kinda inadequate right now,” Prompto’s voice drifts up from the darkness.

Noctis forgets all about the damage as he leaps down, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Prompto steps closer, into the light, “I knew my prince was going to come for me.”

They grin at each other and then Noctis is pulling him close, running his hands over Prompto’s sides and kissing his mouth, his jaw, his cheek, his neck, any part of him that’s convenient. Prompto’s kissing back just as enthusiastically and it’s messy and uncoordinated and Prompto’s nose pokes Noctis in the eye at least once but they can’t seem to stop. 

Noctis is sneaking a hand under Prompto’s shirt when Prompto yelps and pushes him away. Noctis stares at him in confusion but Prompto’s looking down and asking, “Why’d you peck me, buddy?”

It takes a moment for Noctis to realise Prompto’s talking to the chocobo chick.

The next thing he knows he's toppling backwards as Prompto throws them both to the ground, the brickwork behind their heads exploding into a shower of dust and shards. 

When Noctis’ eyes clear from the debris he sees a red dot dancing across Prompto’s side. He swears and rolls them out of the way a second before the floor shatters exactly where they had been laying.

They look up to see the familiar figure of Kenny Crow standing in the ruined archway at the top of the staircase, aiming a sniper rifle down at them. Noctis tenses, trying to make the mental calculations. Can he warp-strike faster than Kenny can shoot?

“Get ready to run into the storeroom,” he whispers to Prompto.

“What? No!” Prompto hisses back, "I'm not leaving you!"

“Caw Caw, Kids,” Kenny Crow calls down as he takes aim, “Are you ready for Kenny’s Special Surprise?”

There’s a blur of movement behind Kenny and the next few moments come to Noctis in a jumble of sensations. The crack of the rifle discharging at the ceiling. The white of the plaster raining down. The dull thumping noise of Kenny Crow falling down the stairs. Finally, the light dimming as the familiar silhouettes of Gladio and Ignis crowd the archway.


	4. Chapter 4

Ignis steps over the prone form of Kenny Crow to hurry over to where Noctis and Prompto are picking themselves up off the floor. He runs concerned hands over them, “Any injuries?”

“We’re okay,” Noctis says.

“Except our pride,” Prompts adds.

Ignis sighs and cups both their faces fondly, “Next time, I’d appreciate it if His Majesty remembered he has both a shield and bulletproof armor.”

“Don’t listen to Ignis, he’s just fussing ‘cause he was worried.” Gladio says, grunting as he lifts Kenny Crow’s limp form over his shoulder, “He was fretting the entire boat ride over.”

“So were you,” Ignis says.

“Ain’t denying it,” Gladio calls back as he carries Kenny up the stairs.

Ignis follows after him, “Put him down in the light, we need to find out who this is.”

Gladio does as ordered and then holds Kenny upright and steady while Ignis feels around the neck of the suit, digging his fingers under the edges of the mask and tugging it up. They all crowd in to see who’s inside.

It’s an old man, his lean face flushed red and his scraggly beard matted with sweat. He’s got crease-marks on his cheek from the costume and his thin white hair is sticking out at all angles.

Ignis adjusts his glasses, then adjusts them again, “. . . I have no idea who this is.”

Noctis squints, “He seems kind of familiar?”

“I believe some deeper investigation is in order. Hold him steady please, Gladio,” Ignis says, summoning a dagger, “We’re going to have to do a strip search.”

Ignis works with brisk efficiency and little care for elderly dignity. The tunic comes off first, then the shorts, and they find Prompto’s stolen phone hidden in his left shoe. Soon the old man’s down to nothing but the black tights and a sweat-stained white vest.

Ignis leans back and examines their captive, frowning, “No, still no idea who he is.”

“Noct is right, though,” Gladio says, “Feels like we should know him.”

The old man stirs, groaning, and Prompto points his own sniper at him as he sits up. It’s only when he blinks open rheumy blue eyes that Noctis figures it out.

“Shit, isn’t this the Emperor of the Nifs?”

“Fuck,” Ignis says.

The Emperor locks eyes with Noctis and then he's screaming and trying to lunge forward, only to be wrestled back by Gladio.

“You!” Aldercapt spits, “Noctis Lucis Caelum, did you think you could escape me? I WILL have my reckoning with you, brat! You and I will do battle, as we should have, this time I will not be deni . . . “

“Okay, that’s enough,” Gladio mutters, hauling the frail old man up effortlessly and tossing him over the balustrade. They all lean over to watch as Aldercapt hits the water with a satisfying splash.

Gladio dusts off his hands, “. . . wait, I thought we did fight him? Kind of?”

Noctis shrugs. They go back to watching the water but the Emperor doesn’t resurface. Soon, a glitter of purple spills across the rippling surface, followed by a shimmer of gold and white. Around them, the lights of the Carnival turn on, one by one.

Gladio stretches out, “damn, it’s late. We’d better get moving.”

“Agreed,” Ignis says, “We still have a lot more to do before the fireworks start.”

They begin to walk away but Noctis glances back to see that Prompto’s still leaning over the balustrade, watching the water with a distant look in his eyes. He turns back and reaches out to him, laying a hand lightly against Prompto’s shoulder, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just . . . Geeze, why am I always the one getting kidnapped?” Prompto says with a weak laugh, eyes unfocused, “Gotta say, at least it went a lot better this time around.”

Noctis hates it, hates the look that’s growing in Prompto’s eyes, so he does the first thing he can think of - he takes off his hat and shoves it at him. 

Prompto blinks in surprise, and then his eyes go clear and bright, “awmahgawd . . . “ he murmured reverently, staring at the hat in awed delight.

They all stare at the hat with him for a few minutes, no one wanting to break the spell. Finally, Ignis gives a soft cough and takes it gently from Prompto’s hands, tenderly smoothing down the blond hair to put it on his head.

Prompto makes an awkward sort of squeak and beams, looking like he’s five and it’s his birthday. Wordlessly he hands his camera to Noctis, who dutifully starts taking pictures.

“Come on, we need to get a move on,” Gladio says, after the twelfth pose, “it’s nearly nightfall and we don’t have enough tokens for the suite yet.”

“Oh wait, how many do we need?” Prompto asks, finally coming out of his chocobo-induced trance.

“A full ninety-nine,” Ignis says, “Noctis and I had almost earned enough, but then Kenn . . . I mean, then Aldercapt interfered.”

“Bastard bumped into me the second I got out of Whack-a-Cactuar,” Gladio mutters, face dark, “next thing I know all my medallions were missing.”

Prompto blinks at them, then rummages around in his pockets, “Huh, really? I’m pretty sure I got at least that much . . .”

They all stare at him. He stares back, “Do . . . do we need more than that? For other stuff? ‘Cause I’m pretty good at that shooting gallery thing.”

Gladio laughs and hauls Prompto into a wet, smacking kiss. Prompto squawks, “Watch the hat!”

Dusk is falling as they walk back, the carnival shedding its cheerful daytime atmosphere for the enchantment of its evening guise, Altissa’s graceful outlines traced in fairy-tale lights. They have to take a detour to return the chocobo chick to its grateful owner and so by the time they reach the bridge leading to the pier the sun's slipping over the horizon and a single rocket streaks skywards, exploding into a shining silver star.

They buy their tickets in a hurry and half-run to the Leville. Then they’re piling into a gondola and being rowed out to the centre of the lagoon for front-row seats of the fireworks pavilion.

“Wow,” Gladio says, “That giant chocobo is pretty cute.”

Prompto laughs and nudges him, "Hey, that's my line!"

The Choco-Mog-o-Rama starts with a single brilliant burst of gold and purple, shooting up from the water, and then the sky is filling with colours. Even though Noctis has seen it all already it’s still beautiful and it's even better now, sharing it with the people he loves most.

They all sit there just watching for a while, cheering together as golden rockets shoot overhead and gasping as sprays of sparks fountain out of the water. Eventually, though, Ignis begins running his hand slowly up Noctis’ thigh, “Didn’t I promise you something extra for our next gondola ride, Noct?”

“Oh, really?” Gladio says, leaning forward, “and were the rest of us included in this plan?”

“Of course,” Ignis says.

“Wait, what are we talking about?” Prompto asks.

Ignis just raises an eyebrow at him.

“Wait, we’re talking about sex stuff? Seriously!?” Prompto yelps, eyes wide, “Here, with, um . . . " he jerks his head back to indicate the gondolier.

“He’s not going to care,” Ignis says, taking his glasses off and handing them to Noctis to store in the Armiger for safe-keeping.

Prompto looks up at the gondolier, “Er . . . “

“Enjoy the Festivities!” the gondolier says cheerfully, face blissfully unconcerned.

“Um . . . no, this is still too weird.” Prompto says, scrambling past Gladio to sit on the little stool at the front of the boat, “I’m just . . . going to watch the fireworks, okay?”

“You sure?” Gladio asks as Ignis makes way for him on the broad bench at the back of the gondola. Prompto bites his lip and stares determinedly at the lights bursting overhead.

“Give him time to get comfortable,” Ignis says. 

“Pity if he misses out,” Gladio says, leaning back against the bench and spreading his legs. Ignis helps Noctis keep steady as boat sways under them, pulling him forward and then pushing him down to sit in Gladio’s lap. He starts unzipping Noctis’ trousers as Gladio begins to push his t-shirt up, sliding a broad hand up Noctis’ chest to play with a nipple.

“Hey, Noct,” Gladio says, nipping at his ear, “I think you should get the lube out now.”

“Wha?” Noctis says, distracted by Ignis’ fingers tracing the top of his briefs, “Oh yeah, the lube.”

His first three tries get them two ethers and a hi-potion, materialising out of the Armiger to clatter against the floor of the boat. He finally manages to find the lube just as Ignis teases his briefs down and gives a wet lick to the head of his cock. Noctis gasps and almost drops the bottle into the water.

Gladio catches it, just in time, and pinches Noctis’ nipple in punishment. Then he’s slicking up his fingers and Ignis is helping Noctis raise himself a little so that Gladio can get him ready. Even Gladio’s fingers are big and Ignis keeps Noctis distracted with teasing kisses against his dick as Gladio sinks in one finger, and then two, slowly stretching him open.

Gladio is always, always careful about this, protective with them like he always is but gentle in a way he never lets himself be outside of sex. Noctis’ hands scrabble against his arms and he’s groaning, “Please, Gladio, just, fuck . . . Please!” even though he knows begging never helps.

Blue and green flowers blaze across the sky as Gladio finally slides in, thick and hot and perfect, and Noctis whimpers with relief. He tries to move, tries to raise himself up and sink back down, but Gladio wraps his arms around him and cradles Noctis firmly against him, holding him still.

“Thank you, Gladio,” Ignis says, smirking up at Noctis before opening his mouth and swallowing his cock in one go. Noctis moans loudly and lets his head fall back against Gladio’s shoulder. Ignis uses just the right amount of suction and is shameless about using his tongue and Noctis has been wanting this for hours, or maybe even years. He’s soon shuddering, breath coming hard and fast, but then Ignis pulls away.

“Ah . . . ah . . . Ignis?” Noctis asks, dazed, but Ignis is turning around to look behind them.

“I hope you’re at least taking pictures, Prompto,” Ignis says. Noctis looks up to see Prompto staring at them, eyes wide and pupils blown, palming at his groin almost absently.

“Prom,” Noctis moans, “Come on, touch yourself. Let us watch too.”

Prompto swallows thickly and nods, then he’s unzipping his jeans and pulling his boxers down. When he takes himself in his hand and starts fisting himself roughly Gladio gives a loud groan that rumbles against Noctis’ back.

“Fuck, Prom, look at you, you look so pretty,” Gladio says and Prompto whimpers. Noctis feels Gladio’s dick twitch inside him in response and it makes him shiver. 

Ignis traces his tongue up Noctis’ cock, from root to tip, and then looks back over his shoulder. “That’s hardly fair,” he says to Prompto, “don’t I get to see you too?”

Prompto scrambles forward, half-falling with his trousers around his thighs, but Gladio reaches out a hand to catch him and then Prompto’s sinking down, sitting on the floor next to Ignis, resting his head against Gladio’s thigh.

Ignis raises his head up slightly, still mouthing the tip of Noctis' cock, giving Prompto room to wrap a hand around the base. Prompto squeezes him, just the right side of tight, and Noctis moans as Ignis licks at him through the gaps between Prompto’s fingers.

Gladio braces himself against the side of the boat and starts to move, finally. The angle is awkward and the thrusts are shallow but Ignis adjusts his rhythm to match, his head bobbing down on Noctis as Gladio thrusts in. 

Noctis loves these moments the best, when it feels like they all fit together flawlessly, moving perfectly in sync. He doesn’t care if it’s in bed or in battle, only that it’s them.

Prompto’s breath is hot against Noctis’ thigh, growing increasingly erratic. Noctis reaches down and touches his mouth and Prompto licks at his fingers, then sucks them in and closes his eyes. Prompto’s other hand is still working against own his cock frantically and then he’s gasping and shuddering and coming, cum splattering against the floor of the boat. 

Gladio strokes Prompto’s hair until he stills and then Prompto’s languidly leaning forward and un-bucking Ignis’ belt. Noctis knows the moment Prompto gets his hands on Ignis’ cock because Ignis moans around Noctis’ dick and his relentless rhythm starts stuttering.

Ignis pulls off of Noctis, breath shuddering against his hip, and then Prompto ducks his head down. Noctis wishes for a moment he could see, that Ignis’ shoulders weren’t blocking his view, but at least he can watch Ignis’ face as his eyes go half-lidded and mouth slack, panting between Noctis’ thighs as he comes.

Ignis takes a moment to recover, resting his head against Noctis’ leg. Then he’s moving back, bracing Noctis as Gladio bends him forward to finally get a good angle. Prompto’s hand wraps back around Noctis’ cock as Gladio starts to thrust deep and hard.

Noctis comes as red and gold starbursts explode overhead.

They stagger back to the Leville just before dawn. The receptionists don’t even blink as they check in, even though it’s embarrassingly obvious what they’ve been up to. Gladio has a line of bite marks from his neck to his belly-button and Ignis’ left sleeve is half-torn from his shirt. Noct is topless, covered in sweat and gods knows what else, because Prompto’s stolen his carnival t-shirt and refuses to give it back.

“Who wants first turn at the shower?” Ignis says as they step through the doors of the suite.

Noctis just groans and falls onto the king-sized bed and then groans again when Gladio flops down on top of him. Prompto stumbles over and joins them and Ignis just stares down at them all a moment before he pokes at Noctis in the leg, "At least take your shoes off."

Noctis sighs and wriggles out from under Gladio to unlace his boots. Ignis moves around the room, closing the curtains, then there's a brief slice of light as he puts the do-not-disturb-sign on the door.

They all grumble as Ignis pulls the blankets out from under them but then he’s crawling onto the bed to join them, bringing the blankets with him, and they shuffle around to make space for him.

Noctis is just drifting off when Gladio says, “So, what are our plans for tomorrow?”

“Not much yet,” Ignis says, “I suppose we should test the boundaries of this place, figure out what it will and won’t let . . ."

“I meant, what did you want to do for breakfast?” Gladio says with a laugh, “I saw this bakery, all fancy pastries and fancy coffee. It looked like it’d be your thing.”

“Oh,” Ignis says.

“Sounds good,” Prompto says sleepily, “We should go.”

“Yes, I . . . suppose that does sound nice.” Ignis says, "If we have time, I'd like to visit the boutiques as well."

Gladio chuckles, “If we’re going shopping then we’re hitting a bookstore too, okay?”

“Of course. But then afterwards . . . “ Ignis starts again and Gladio groans, “Ignis, go to sleep, we can talk about it in the morning.”

“I want to try and go back to Lucis,” Noctis hears himself say.

They shift around him, suddenly more awake, “Do you think it’s possible?” Gladio asks.

“I don’t know, but I want to try.” Noctis says.

They’re quiet for a while, pensive. Even Noctis isn’t sure what version of Lucis they’ll find out there, if they can even reach it.

“Even if we manage it, we’ll still need to get a new car. We left the Regalia back in Gralea,” Ignis says reluctantly, breaking the hush.

“Nah.” Prompto says, voice already slurring with sleep, “Naaaah. That old girl won’t let us down. She’ll be waiting for us in Lucia like . . . like . . . like a faithful chocobo!”

Gladio snorts.

“And she’ll be as good as new,” Prompto continues, “No, she’ll be better than ever!”

“Nothing could make that car better,” Noctis says.

Prompto rolls over to poke him, “Nuh-uh. Now she’ll be able to fly!”

“Fly.” Ignis says, flatly. “ . . . I’m drawing the line at driving the flying car.”

There’s no response from Prompto. He’s curled-up against Noctis and fallen asleep.

They sleep past noon. When they finally wake their attempt at a hurried round of showers and a quick exit turns into Ignis braced against the shower wall, biting back moans as Gladio eats him out. Noctis lazes against Prompto as they watch from the bathtub, his hand slowly stroking Prompto’s cock. 

By the time they finally manage to check-out it’s nearly evening but the bakery Gladio noticed is still somehow open when they get there. The pastries and coffee are everything that he promised.

Noctis is on his third slice of some sort of sweet bread, studded with candied fruit, when Prompto leans over and brushes a crumb from the corner of his mouth.

“Hey Noct,” Prompto says, grinning sunnily, “Let’s stay a few more days before we go, earn a few more medallions. If we’re going to get the car back I think I saw the perfect decal for it.”

"Sure, why not?" Noctis smiles back, "We've got all the time we need."


End file.
